


A Week in the Life of Benton Fraser, Male Slut

by Jane Elliot (JaneElliot)



Category: due South
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-30
Updated: 2008-11-30
Packaged: 2018-11-10 23:52:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11137125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneElliot/pseuds/Jane%20Elliot
Summary: "On Monday, it was Jill."  A response to a request for Lothario!Fraser.  Fraser/OFCs with a hint of Fraser/RayV.





	A Week in the Life of Benton Fraser, Male Slut

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive).

## A Week in the Life of Benton Fraser, Male Slut

  
by Jane Elliot  


Author's Notes: Big thanks to atlantisgrrrl, who helped me make this story so smutty.

* * *

On Monday, it was Jill. She was in town from Kansas and had gotten lost in the wild of Chicago, and Fraser escorted her back to her hotel. Her white cotton briefs were wet and fragrant as Fraser slid them down her legs and as she lowered herself on his cock, he was reminded once again why kindness was so rewarding.  
  
Tuesday it was Candy. Candy worked at a sex store and had come in to report a robbery. She wore black leather and a lace thong and had an impressive drawer of toys next to her bed.  
  
On Wednesday, Fraser found it difficult to sit down for any length of time and Ray, vocally annoyed at Fraser's pacing, sent him off to the coffee shop around the corner for a latte with two shots of espresso. Fraser fucked Shannon, the barista, up against the wall in the store room as the milk was heating. Shannon wasn't wearing any underwear, but she gave him a hickey on his hip to remember her by.  
  
Annabelle, the woman who delivered flowers to the consulate on Thursday, was limping as she made her way up the front steps. She and Fraser exchanged a series of massages, some more intimate than others, but eventually she pushed his hands aside and fumbled with his pants and soon he was gasping as her head bobbed on his cock. She had on boy's-style underpants and smirked when Fraser asked if he could keep them.  
  
Nothing happened on Friday, as Ray insisted on taking Fraser out for dinner. Fraser had decided early on that he wouldn't risk any of his precious Chicago friendships by mixing them with sex, which meant everyone in the Vecchio family was off-limits. Still, Fraser couldn't help but surreptitiously watch the way Ray's body moved in his loose clothing and that night as he brought himself off he pictured the way Ray bent over the pool table, the smooth fabric of his pants pulled tight against his ass.  
  
Fraser literally ran into Emma on Saturday, and felt it was his duty to help her carry her groceries home by way of apology. As they'd landed in a puddle, Emma suggested a bath, and soon Fraser was demonstrating a practical use for his above average lung capacity as Emma writhed over him, her thighs clamped around Fraser's ears. Fraser left her on her bed, limp and sated; he pocketed her black satin panties on his way out the door.  
  
Sunday, Fraser went to church and went home with Clarissa. She never got out of her dress; she said she liked the sight of a man's hand reaching under her skirt and she insisted on having the skirt thrown up over her back as Fraser tongued her from behind. Later she panted as Fraser fucked her, his fingers digging hard into her hip and sweat dripping down from his face to her ass. He walked away with bikini briefs patterned with a series of tiny flowers, his whole body singing with the sweet aftereffects of a good Catholic girl determined to be bad.  
  
~~~  
  
Ray burst into Fraser's apartment and headed straight for the footlocker at the base of the crappy bed. He knew how Fraser felt about hospital gowns, and it would make everyone's life easier if they got him in sweats before he woke up.  
  
He'd just found the sweat pants when a flash of red caught his eye. Curious, he pushed aside a stack of shirts.  
  
Ray turned bright red and he slapped the shirts right back over the pile of women's underwear. He _definitely_ wasn't going to ask Benny about that. There were just some things he didn't want to know.  
  
He was halfway out the door when a thought struck him, and he glanced up and down the hallway before sneaking back into the room.  
  
Ten seconds later he was back in the hallway, a grin on his face and a starched pair of white boxers in his pocket.  
  



End file.
